


Something In Your Kiss Made My Body Electric

by hostagesfic



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Discussion of Exhibitionism, Domesticity, M/M, Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 15:56:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostagesfic/pseuds/hostagesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s too late to pretend they’ve not shared four bottles of Cristal and that Louis doesn’t <i>know</i> them. Danny and Zayn don’t even front when Ant is getting the Xbox on and they say their goodnights together, headed for the bedroom, and Louis shrugs and just grabs a controller, threatening to destroy Ant at FIFA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something In Your Kiss Made My Body Electric

**Author's Note:**

> We couldn't resist the thought of Zayn spending a week at home with his boys, and then [Louis tweeted Ant](https://twitter.com/Louis_Tomlinson/status/316349763576549376), and in the words of one Harry Styles, it just kinda happened. Please note this includes mentions of Zayn/Ant/Danny and Ant and Danny are brothers, if incest undertones aren't up your alley. Then again, anything with Zayn and the Riachs is arguably kind of incestuous regardless? Title from Wherever You Are by Ke$ha.

It’s too late to pretend they’ve not shared four bottles of Cristal and that Louis doesn’t _know_ them. Danny and Zayn don’t even front when Ant is getting the Xbox on and they say their goodnights together, headed for the bedroom, and Louis shrugs and just grabs a controller, threatening to destroy Ant at FIFA.

Zayn brushes his teeth and hands Danny his brush when he comes in, pulling his shirt over his head. Danny nods his thanks and bumps their shoulders as he passes, and they're quiet, washing up- neither of them feel like a shower but Zayn washes his face and Danny splashes his, wipes down with a flannel.

When they trail back into the bedroom there's a whoop that resounds from the living room, and Danny rolls his eyes. "The dangerous duo, out there."

"Hanging w’Lou was cool," Zayn grins, slipping under the covers on his side of the bed. 

Danny nods, crawls onto the bed on his side and then pauses, crawls further over and hovers on top of Zayn, hands and knees pinning him under the comforter.

Zayn looks up at him with a tired yet defiant little smirk, hums questioningly.

"N'as cool's you," Danny says, low, leans down to press their foreheads together.

"What’s that even mean? 'mere," Zayn laughs, cheeks going warm. He tries to wiggle his hands out but it's a lost cause; he's better off just tipping his chin up and trying to catch Danny's mouth, biting at his lips.

Danny drops down to his elbows, pressed tight to Zayn's front, their angles still sharp even cushioned with the comforter. He licks into Zayn's mouth briefly before backing off, sucking his lower lip between his teeth.

There's still noise coming from the living room, the muted thunder of surround sound bass suggesting that they've moved on to L4D or something and Danny leans back, raises his eyebrows at Zayn.

"I'll- 'm'na need you t'kiss me a lot," Zayn huffs, because he'll go for it, sure, but being loud about it is something else entirely, and well, kissing is nice either way.

“Suppose I c'n do that," Danny smiles, softly, and kisses him, a bit fiercer. He settles further, making room for himself between Zayn's legs and lowering his mouth to Zayn's jaw, the stubble making his lips drag as he kisses down to his pulse. "You think, sometimes," he mutters, in between wet, sucking noises as he moves up the other side of Zayn's jaw- "if we could- fuck everyone, be loud as we wanted and let 'em hear. Wanted 'em to hear."

"What, like," Zayn whispers, freeing a hand from beneath the comforter and scratching at the back of Danny's head, "d'you wanna show off or summat?"

"Maybe," Danny shrugs, raises up to glance at him for a moment. "If we'd gone off to uni, like, had a shit little flat- make th'neighbors bang on the wall, all that." He shrugs again. Danny doesn't often bring up the plans they'd made before, how things could've been different, but occasionally it comes out.

Zayn sighs, wriggles a bit beneath Danny, but it's not uncomfortable. "'d be home much more, I s'pose, that'd- yeah."

Danny sucks a brilliant mark at the base of Zayn's neck, running his teeth over it and then his tongue, reluctant to let it go, even as bright as it already is. "Just- be a bit hot, yeah? Everyone knowing?"

"A bit, yeah," Zayn nods, gets lost in the thought of it a little, and by the time he thinks he ought to get Danny to stop sucking at his neck because the lads'll _see_ , he- it kinda falls into place. "Y'wanna show 'em I'm yours," he breathes. "Everyone."

"Everyone," Danny echoes roughly, and leans up to bite at Zayn's open mouth, reaches up to press his thumb hard into the mark he left on Zayn's neck.

Zayn gasps, has to seal his mouth against Danny's to keep from moaning loudly, because he _loves_ having Danny's marks on him, loves the way they hurt so good. He scratches at Danny's scalp and huffs out through his nose, growly.

Danny pulls away and tips his forehead into Zayn's again, eyes daring. "Could suck you off and everyone would know," he says, and Zayn can't be sure if he means in the hypothetical world mentioned before or here and now, but it doesn't really make a difference. "Fuck you and they'd be able to tell, more'n just th'way you walk after."

"Bit embarrassing," Zayn whines, but he's- definitely warming up to the idea. "Yours, though, f'everyone to see."

"Y'like Ant to watch," Danny points out, moving back to sit on his knees between Zayn's legs and peeling the covers down his chest.

Zayn looks up at him with the hungriest eyes, spreads his legs a little more, drawing his knees up. "So do you."

Danny closes his eyes for a moment, leans over Zayn and takes his head in both hands, kisses his forehead. "What about the lads, then? 'd you like that, too?"

Zayn takes a moment to think about it, because- he's never been the most confident in his body or his skills or his _anything_ , but the lads are the lads, and he's proud of what he and Danny have, how well they work together. "'f they wanted to, yeah," he says finally, nuzzling one of Danny's hands.

Danny thumbs at his lower lip and draws back, shuffling the blanket down and then drawing it back up over his shoulders, hovering over Zayn like before. There's just clothes in the way, now, ratty old pyjamas that've gone back and forth so many times they can't quite remember which were whose first. They used to make blanket forts, when they were in school, when Danny didn't want to chance Ant walking in and seeing something they couldn't quite explain just yet, and that's what it reminds Zayn of, now.

"Don't think I'd ask you to," Danny says, hushed. "Just like to think about it, sometimes."

"Right," Zayn agrees, pensive and fond and- a bit needy, honestly, feeling scrutinized by Danny. He makes a little sound and grabby hands, the silent signal for _kiss me some more, please?_

Danny looks like he could say more but shakes his head almost imperceptibly, smiles down at Zayn and obliges him as always. Their bodies fit together the same easy way they always have, Danny's thigh slotting between Zayn's and the other bracketing his hip, hands feeling out his chest and collarbones and shoulders, the tattoos and bruises he can find blindly.

Quickly enough happy kissing turns heavy, and heavy kissing comes with wandering hands, slipped beneath shirts and teasing at the ends of each other's hair and, just as easily, cupping inside each other's flannel trousers. Danny takes his time, more delicate than usual as he traces Zayn's cock, fingertips like butterfly kisses along the shaft. He's still kissing Zayn, but it's distracted, lips on lips and letting Zayn take the lead to push his tongue into Danny's mouth, keep it messy and deep.

Zayn makes breathy, high-pitched noises against Danny's lips and tongue, the kind that only _he_ gets to hear when they're together, not anyone else, sometimes not even Ant. "Danny," he mutters, smeared on Danny's mouth, not even bothering trying to move away from each other to speak. "I want- want y'mouth, c'd you-?"

Danny doesn't bother replying, just presses a hard kiss against Zayn's mouth and scoots down, under the duvet, hands on Zayn's waist, hips, and finally thighs to guide himself. He pulls off Zayn’s sweats and pants completely, working blind and huddled, and lays out flat on the mattress between Zayn's legs, arms under Zayn's thighs and tilting his hips up, mouth fumbling only slightly in the dark to find Zayn's cock.

“ _Yes_ ,” Zayn hisses, and Danny’s barely just exhaling hot breaths over the head of his cock with a firm hand around the base. It’s kind of a pity that they can’t kiss like this (and maybe, if Ant were here-) but having Danny’s mouth on him like this is arguably better, being as turned on as he is.

Danny sucks cock like it’s a favor- not as something that you owe him for, just as something he wouldn’t do otherwise. And he wouldn’t, hasn’t, besides Zayn. It doesn’t mean he’s not good at it, doesn’t know exactly what Zayn wants at any given time. Whether it’s quick and sloppy against their bathroom counter or with his fingers jerking Zayn off into his mouth and thumbing at his balls- or like now, when he’s smoothing his hands repeatedly over Zayn’s thighs and lower stomach, licking and sucking wet kisses along the shaft of his prick.

Zayn’s thankful enough for it, anyway, and it’s obvious in the happy sounds that manage to escape him, even with his lips thinned out and pressed tightly together, pulled a little between his teeth. “Yeah, yeah, fuck-” he says, when he realizes he _can_ talk as long as he keeps it down. He knows Danny likes the reassurance of it, the verbal cue that he’s doing it right.

Danny palms his hips, rougher, lifting him towards his mouth and making Zayn’s cock nudge his cheek, nose, just beside his eye. He nuzzles the inside of Zayn’s thigh, teeth grazing the tendons and then tender skin of his inner leg before he works back up to his stomach, nosing through the sparse hair there. Zayn’s cock bumps his throat and Danny moans, turns to open his mouth as wide as he can around the base of his prick.

“Ah, shit,” Zayn groans loudly, forgetting that there’s anyone else in the house for a moment. His hands fly up to his mouth immediately, though, and he muffles a whine with his fingers, craning his neck to try to peer at Danny between his legs, eyes wide. He’s frozen, a little, but it quickly becomes obvious that the lads haven’t heard him. When he lowers his hands, he tangles one of them in the sheets and fits the other over Danny’s shoulder, anchoring himself.

“Hey,” Danny says, glancing up Zayn’s body, smiling at him encouragingly. “You could be, y’know.” He fists Zayn’s cock, thumbing up the veins on the underside but stopping short of the head, moving back down and tracing his balls lightly. “Loud.”

Zayn swallows, lifting his hips a little just to chase Danny’s touch. “They could hear,” he says, hushed, and drops his head backwards when Danny kisses just beneath the crown of his cock.

Danny closes his eyes for the first time that he licks over the head of Zayn’s cock, focusing on just the taste of him, the bitter saltiness and the heat as he closes his lips around the crown. He sucks hard at the first twitch against his tongue, swallows the burst of precome and draws back to lick around the head with the flat of his tongue. “Yeah,” he whispers, pulling back, eyes opening slowly and finding Zayn’s. “Don’t hav’ta if you don’t want.”

It’s not Zayn’s fault if he gets a bit lost in Danny’s gaze, turning his words over and over, trying to process them through a haze. He really _could_ just- let it go and let himself be loud, louder than he usually is even when they’re home alone, until the lads absolutely _had_ to know, hearing the way Zayn gave himself up for Danny and Danny gave right back, generous and greedy for each other, always. “I- I want,” Zayn tries, the words clumsy as they leave his tongue, and Danny understands so, so easily. He reaches out a hand to pet at Zayn’s chest and jaw, push his fingertips against Zayn’s mouth. He understands.

“S’okay,” Danny says, and Zayn opens his mouth against the tips of Danny’s fingers. Danny pushes them inside gently, two against Zayn’s tongue to the second knuckle, thumbing at Zayn’s jaw to get him to close his mouth around them. “Yeah,” Danny encourages him, and bends his head to lick at the crown of Zayn’s cock again.

Zayn has to make a conscious effort not to bite down too hard on Danny’s fingers, instead pursing his lips around them and sucking hard, pushing them up to the roof of his mouth with his tongue. They do what they’re intended to, anyway, muffling Zayn’s needy moans as Danny licks at his cock, swirls his tongue around the head and sucks kisses at the shaft.

When Zayn can’t keep his hips still, losing what control and courtesy he can usually maintain for Danny’s tongue, when he’s reckless with his teeth against Danny’s knuckles, Danny pulls off. Jacking him firmly in one hand, he nudges a third fingertip at the corner of Zayn’s mouth.

Making a sound akin to a _yeah_ but too muffled to really make much sense _,_ Zayn opens his mouth and lets Danny slide his ring finger in. Danny’s fingers are thick, and longer than Zayn’s, and although the stretch isn’t the same as having Danny’s cock in his mouth would be, it reminds Zayn of it enough, makes him hum, content, and shift his hips impatiently.

“Yeah,” Danny echoes, voice rough, and leans up to press a quick kiss to the heart on Zayn’s hip. The heart that covers _lucky_ and the the fourth letter of the alphabet and the pulse that is pounding wildly under Zayn’s skin. He holds Zayn’s prick steady and presses his tongue to the ridge of the crown, bends to take in as much as he can on a single inhale. He takes another deep breath through his nose before pressing further, lips meeting the ring of his fingers as he gently moves them, up and down, one and two and three, rhythmic counts with the movement of his head as he hollows his cheeks for Zayn.

Zayn would’ve possibly swallowed his own tongue if Danny’s fingers hadn’t been there to keep it in his mouth. Danny’s hands are great at keeping the general peace, honestly- without the one around the base of his dick he would’ve jerked up into Danny’s throat and made him choke. Zayn feels himself drool a little around Danny’s fingers, just a bit of moisture at the corners of his mouth, and he has to tense up his stomach muscles to keep still instead of fucking into the warmth of Danny’s mouth, stretched around him, his tongue flat against the underside of Zayn’s cock.

Danny only pauses in his rhythm, only pulls back to breathe briefly, every few moments, ragged and wet, spit dragging between his lower lip and the head of Zayn’s prick, before he’s forcing himself down again. Zayn’s muscles are jumping now, his thighs tense around Danny’s shoulders and his stomach quivering slightly, arms restless in the sheets before he brings them to curl around Danny’s on his chest. Zayn’s fingers tighten fiercely in Danny’s forearm as Danny moves back, and Zayn comes over his mouth and chin and up his cheek, choking around Danny’s knuckles.

When Danny slides his fingers out of Zayn’s mouth, they’re slick with spit and have tiny marks just beneath the knuckles, indents left behind by Zayn’s teeth. He sits up between Zayn’s legs and shoves his pajamas and underwear down without much finesse, licking Zayn’s come off his lips absentmindedly. He doesn’t bother wiping the rest of it and gets the hand still wet from Zayn’s mouth around his cock, jerking himself desperately. It’s quick, and dirty, and he can’t stop staring at Zayn’s still-heaving chest and his swollen red mouth, the shine at the corners of his mouth, the line of his throat.

He goes still when he comes, thighs tense and his hand cupped over his dick to keep from making a further mess of Zayn, much of a lovely mental image it might be. Zayn’s blinking sleepily up at him and there’s no way Danny could get him up for a shower tonight. He digs the fingers of his free hand into Zayn’s thigh, instead, sure to leave marks, and scratches up, across his hip bone, to the soft little bit of stomach that Zayn has gained back from the holidays, that reminds Danny of Zayn at sixteen and the first time they did this, leaving each other bruises and stained sheets and falling asleep holding hands like kids. Danny swears and reaches for the tissues on the nightstand, wiping his hand and face off quickly and discarding the tissue, melting down into the mattress beside Zayn.

Zayn scoots close to Danny’s side and all but hangs off his shoulder, arm draped over Danny’s ribs and cheek pressed to his shoulder. He can’t really hear the Xbox anymore, supposes the lads must’ve gone to sleep, and there’s something oddly comforting in being the last ones standing, heads still a bit swimmy from the alcohol and each other. He considers saying something- pointing out how quiet the house has gone, or how there’s a tiny smear of come still on Danny’s chin, or how he loves Danny so much it’s scary, but it’s not worth disrupting the calm. He snuggles closer, instead.

Danny rubs his hands off on the tail of his shirt and tugs Zayn in closer, fingers tracing his jaw and threading into the hair behind his ear. Kissing him gently, he rubs their noses together, a brief eskimo kiss, and watches Zayn from millimeters away, sharing his pillow. “Hey, jaan,” he whispers, smiling, and taps a finger to the tip of Zayn’s nose to watch him squirm sleepily.

“Hmmm?” Zayn hums, almost like he forgot how to use words altogether. Danny understands him regardless.

“Thanks,” Danny nods, still carefully quiet, and bumps their foreheads together. They’re both sticky and too hot, but Zayn shivers and doesn’t pull away.

When it comes, Zayn’s voice is just a soft rasp, barely above a whisper. “Love you.”

Danny smiles so wide that his eyes crinkle and it’s easier to let them drift shut, fitting his hand to Zayn’s hip and curling their toes together. “Love you too.”

 

 


End file.
